


Keep Calm and Carry On

by aimeewrites



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: England 1941The country is at war, and women are being conscripted.Anne Lister enlists. Ann Walker too.For this story, I had to change the ages a little - at the start of this story, Anne Lister is 26 and Ann Walker 20recommended listening - Vera Lynn Playlist on YouTubehttps://youtu.be/yGQgdE50QA4
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

Oct 4th, 1941, Shibden Hall

Arrived at the WAAF recruiting office in York soon after 9. They had few questions for me, after all – had to decide between being a cook and an MT driver. Could not imagine myself in a kitchen, so I chose driver. Came home & told my aunt & my father I was to report at RAF Harrogate in two days for training. My aunt very much aggrieved by my choice, although she said she was not surprised. She fears for my safety at the wheel. Little does she know that Tib & I have sometimes dispensed of her chauffeur & driven her Rolls around. Marian, as usual, very irritating – said I probably thought peeling potatoes was above my station. Did not disagree with her but did not say so openly so as to try & keep the peace for my last days at home. Spent the afternoon checking out the left field with Washington & tidying my things. We are to be given a uniform – I shall miss my usual black. Tonight, read aloud to my aunt from Rebecca, then wrote letters to Tib & M- informing them of my whereabouts for the coming weeks.

Oct 5th

Had breakfast at 6.45, then spent 2 hours reading Latin & French – they specified I should not bring personal possessions such as books, and I shall sorely miss reading. Then went to see the saplings planting in the West Grove & settled some bills. This afternoon, spent some time with my aunt – she does not want me to go but agrees that with conscription I have no choice. I have been wanting to enlist since the beginning of that wretched war but had agreed to stay home to manage the estate – now I finally have a reason to leave. Marian managed to get out by arguing Shibden Hall is a farm – a farm! – and she is needed to take care of it. Not that I can see Marian in uniform… Melancholy tonight – I told my aunt that of course if her health deteriorated I would ask for leave & come home directly but I can sense she is worried & I do not like to see her like that. It would grieve me greatly if anything happened to her while I am away. I wonder where I shall be tomorrow night.

Harrogate, Oct 6th, 

Arrived at RAF Harrogate this morning at 9 after an uncomfortable but mercifully short train ride. Ten other young women alighted at that station – two of them very vulgar, commenting loudly on the “boys in uniform” they had left behind. Another one very reserved, seems meek as a mouse – I wonder what she is doing here. We were met by a woman who introduced herself as Sergeant Rawson, who took us to our sleeping quarters & told us snappily to “make it quick, we haven’t got all day”. The sleeping arrangements were a shock – not since school have I slept with several other girls in a room, and this hut has 30 beds. I chose the furthest from the door, praying the girl sleeping next to me does not snore. The beds are rudimentary – 3 30-inches square blocks they call biscuits – for a mattress, that could have been made of wood, white sheets, a pillow and 3 scratchy blankets. Then they took us for uniform fitting – I fared rather better than the smaller girls & the clothes almost fit me. I am now in possession of with two skirts, two shirts, two tunics, vests, bras and knickers, two pairs of beige lisle stockings, two pairs of shoes, black tie, a cap with a brass badge, a mug and two pairs of pyjamas, blue and white striped. The food tonight was uninspiring. Some kind of boiled meat – might have been beef, might have been pork – with boiled swedes & carrots, with runny custard & boiled apples for dessert. They seem to enjoy boiling. Afterwards, we were told how to take care of our uniforms – plenty of unnecessary instructions for me, as I am no stranger to tying a tie or polishing shoes. Shall attempt to sleep now.

Oct 7th

Did not sleep a wink last night – I was cold & the “biscuits” did a terrible job masquerading as a mattress. Breakfast was cereal, toast & marmalade & brewer’s tea – more palatable than dinner. After breakfast, inspection – everything had to be folded and placed at the correct position. Then drill – I found out how surprisingly difficult it is to walk & balance your arms “the proper way”. Sergeant Rawson yelled at me more than once & I found it terribly difficult to keep my temper in check. I have not been given orders since my schooldays & I cannot say I like it. All this drill & marching around may make us into proper soldiers but at the moment it seems to me pretty useless. Very much looking forward to specialised training.

Oct 12th

2 more days til I get out of here. Some of the girls have given up & gone home. Strangely enough, the mousy girl from the train is still here. The Honourable Vere Hobart. Pretty enough & clever too, & tougher than one would think. She offered to do some of my darning for me & I accepted – her stitches are much tinier than mine & that makes my socks more comfortable. The shoes we wear fit badly & I have huge blisters on both feet. Chilblains, too. My left arm is still a little swollen from all the inoculations we had to have on our arrival. You would think we are going to be sent to the tropics. Most of us have finally learnt to march & salute properly. As for kit inspection… Sergeant Rawson seems to have taken against me. Two days ago she threw my whole bedding on the floor because apparently one of the sheets was creased, and this morning, my toothbrush was not at the correct angle & she made me stand at attention in the ablution block for an hour. I intensely dislike being made feel foolish & ranted about it to Vere afterwards. She said it was because I appeared so sure of myself that the Sergeant had decided to make an example of me. Thank goodness we are leaving soon.

Preston, Dec 15th

Leaving for my first posting today. I have been assigned to the 9 Group, Barton Hall, Preston. I first trained as a driver but when they assessed our skills, I must have revealed too much. I did not want an admin job & thus tried to hide my abilities, but I must not have done it well enough, for it was decided that I was to be a Clerk, Special Duties. The job is thankfully not as dreary as it sounds – it involves tracking enemy aircraft & plotting fighter sweeps & bomber raids over enemy occupied territories. I had to sign the Official Secret Act & they forbade us to keep a diary. I filled a few loose pieces of paper & will keep this one well-hidden at my new posting.

Arrived at the 9 Group at 6pm. I had to count the stations, as all the signs have been removed. I had to find my way in the dark to the Hall from the station & arrived at 6.45. Once there, I was led to another hut – there would not be much privacy here either. I discovered that the grub was marginally better than at the training camps. I was tired & a little out of sorts & although some of the other women tried to befriend me I did not pay much attention to them & was thankful when light-outs came. Tomorrow, I would start work in the plotting room.

Dec 16th

After breakfast – porridge & 2 pieces of bread with bramble jam – there was a kit inspection & I found out they would be even less lenient than at training camp. You would think that with our country being at war & all, the army would care less about such things as polished buttons & tidy kit, but no. Taken to task by the Sergeant in charge for the state of my buttons & belt buckle – somehow they had got dirty during the train ride & I had had no time to clean them – I made the mistake of telling her what I thought. I only narrowly escaped being sent to her superior for a strict dressing-down & she let me know in no uncertain terms what she thought of “know-alls” like me.

As she was berating me outside the hut, a Warrant Officer passed by & the Sergeant & I both snapped to attention. That is when she told me that next time she would report me to her. She also told me her name. WO Walker. I had no time to really take notice of the woman but I did see that she cut a neat little figure in her uniform.


	2. Chapter 2

_From: Warrant Officer Ann Walker_

_To: Elisabeth Sutherland_

_My dear sister,_

_I have not had a chance to write any sooner and I hope you will forgive me. As you know, the “family”, and especially Aunt Ann, were not keen for me to join the Services. I thought at first that I would volunteer as a nurse, but somehow they liked that idea even less for me. Finally, they all decided that if I really had to enlist, I would have to do so as an officer. I can tell you this did not appeal to me in the least – I did not want to be responsible for other people. However, as you know, I usually have very little say in matters concerning myself, and Uncle Edwards contacted someone who contacted someone…And I received a convocation to attend a WAAF Officers Cadet Training Unit – well, after basic training, of course, which was a rude shock, as you can imagine. Can you see me having to wake up at six every morning, making my bed at hospital – or should I say -army corners, putting on my uniform and then doing drill and exercise for the better part of the day? Anyway – I survived, and I did apparently rather well in the officer’s course. I was posted to two stations already, and they must be sorely lacking officers, for they promoted me to Warrant Officer. I am an Intelligence officer, and that is all I am able to tell you I am afraid – and maybe even that may be censored, so you may remain in ignorance. I have now been posted in Preston, not very far from home. I have been surprised to have fewer headaches lately, and my back does not hurt quite so much either – who knew war could be a cure for various ailments?_

_In a way, I am glad they chose the WAAF, for I feel closer to my darling John. If it had not been for this horrible war, I could have been married by now. It shall never be now – the remains of his plane were never found, but there is no doubt he perished in the crash._

_I hope you and the children are doing well, and that you get regular good news from Captain Sutherland._

_Your very affectionate sister_

_Ann_

__

Dec 20th

Had an egg from breakfast this morning, with bread and marg, and tea. They try to feed us well, but despite my great coat, I always feel cold. Glad they gave us permission to wear trousers – it is much more practical than skirts, and warmer. I am getting used to the blue of the barathea service dress, and the detachable collars of the shirts save us much bother. I still cannot get used to the suspender belt or the cap. That dratted cap! We have to wear it all the time.

For now the work is interesting enough, although the rooms we work in are underground & some days I never get to see the sun. We have few breaks & we have to work quickly to sort out the correct position of the aircraft from the various overlapping Radar station plots that cover the same aircraft responses. In addition we are required to estimate both height and number of aircraft, as well as direction from information given. Thus we need an intimate knowledge of the siting of the Radar stations in order to judge the accuracy of their information.

Now acquainted with most of the girls on my shifts & in my hut. In the bed next to mine, a Miss Mary Vallance – very pretty, but not a great conversationalist. A little giggly for my taste. Another pretty one is Scottish – a Miss Sibella McLean. Cleverer than Vallance but quite shy. Good pedigree – aristocratic family. Of course, none of us are Miss anymore – we are either Aircraftwomen or Leading Aircraftwomen. Aircraftwoman Lister…On my shifts I mostly work with a Frances Pickford – not that she is ever called like that – they call her Pic, or Frank – I have heard people say she is mannish & blue. I think we could become friends – our intellects match & I like plain-spoken people. Have to stop now – have to do my own darning now Vere is no longer with me. Tonight is a Friday, and domestic evening – we have to clean & polish our bed spaces, do our hand-washing & darning. Everything will be inspected by an officer.

Dec 21st

One of the girls had warned us that the officers checked for dust on the top of the doors & I had laughed & thought she was joking. Turned out, she was not. All our hut had to be on kit parade at 6 this morning, in the freezing cold & same tonight at 7. Gave me the chance to inspect WO Walker while she inspected us. The uniform suits her. All spick & span & prim & proper, but pretty enough. Quite a dragon, too – her tongue is twice the size her height is. Noticed Frank sneaking out with another girl – Threfall – last night. Is there mischief going on between those two? Frank does look the type. Even with that lot of people around me & not much spare time, I feel lonely tonight. Shall I ever find a companion?

Dec 22nd

Church parade this morning. Nearly all of us not on shift went to church. Sermon passable, an old clergyman probably quite deaf & unfortunately tone deaf too. Longish service, but it made a change from the base. As a newcomer, I shall be on shift for Christmas, but then I am to have a day’s leave. Spotted a girl in the canteen today – with the filterers. Very comely blonde with blue eyes. Heard someone call her Browne.

Dec 24th

What a rum Christmas Eve this is. At least we had a decent supper – almost pre-war, with turkey & two vegs & a kind of Christmas pud. _Last night, incurred a cross thinking of Miss Browne._

Dec 28th

Finally a day’s leave. Vallance & Frank are on leave too & they asked me if I wanted to go to Blackpool with them – some of the airmen are going & offered to drive us. I said I would walk to Preston. I want to check out the library, for I miss my books desperately & although there’s a small selection in the NAAFI, these are mostly trashy novels. Also need to find a chemist – my complaint not much better. Thankfully it did not come up during the medical exam, but I cannot go to the Medical Officer, as I would be accused of concealing it & risk a discharge. If I can find sulphathiazole & mercurous chloride, I can mix my own preparation. […]

What a day! Went to the library but it was very poorly stocked. Managed to find a copy of Marcus Aurelius’ _Meditations_ in their original version & also borrowed _The Brothers Karamazov_ , since I have never had the time to properly read Dostoevsky’s magnus opus. And my favourite Dickens, Great Expectations. Had tea with terrible rock-hard buns in a teashop & then found the chemist. I told him I needed the mercurous chloride for my intestinal torpor, which is not the case as my bowels movements are very regular nowadays, much more than at home. Sometimes it is even runny & I blame the canteen food for that. I did not dare to ask for the sulphatiazole at the same chemist & was just coming out from another one when I almost bumped into WO Walker. As I was anxious for her not to see my purchases, I became clumsy & blushed & dropped my books. She bent down to retrieve them for me & as I bent down at the same time, our foreheads met. I apologised profusely & said I hoped I had not done her any harm. She contemplated me without a word. Then she took a few step, turned back and said: “Aircraftswoman Lister” “Yes, Ma’am?” There was a note of contempt in her voice & I cringed, not knowing what she was going to say & surprised she knew my name. “You are supposed to salute a superior officer, Aircraftwoman Lister. I shall let it go for today, but next time you’ll be put on a charge. We taught you that in basic training – was it too hard for you to remember?” And then she left as I murmured “No, Ma’am.” Golly! What a shrew…But technically, she was right & I was in the wrong. I hate that! I probably was not a very good fit for the army… I guess I should consider myself lucky & avoid WO Walker in future. I did notice that she had beautiful grey eyes, though.


	3. Chapter 3

A month after the arrival of four new recruits on the base, it was time for an evaluation of their skills. A new device had been added to the defence arsenal, codename Aspirin. The Germans had designed a radio beam guidance system to help the Luftwaffe identify the targets, using two beams to tell the pilots where to drop their bombs, and “Aspirin” – the German system, Knickebein, having been nicknamed “Headache” by the British – helped redirect the enemy planes on a new target. It was of the utmost importance that all the staff did their best, and therefore WO Ann Walker and Flight Sergeant Harriet Parkhill were conferring in the former’s office, with a cup of tea and biscuits.

“So – what do you think of the new batch, Harriet?”

“They’re good – I mean, they wouldn’t send us duds, anyway, and the girls are much faster than some of the older men.”

“True – any discipline problems so far?”

“Well…” Harriet paused, reviewing the last month in her head. “Not really, no – some of them are a bit clueless still about army life, but… And – a few are a little more opinionated than others and had to be taken down a peg or two…”

Ann pushed on: “Like?”

“AW Lister” finally admitted Harriet. “She’s – quite a piece of work. But she does brilliant work, she’s the fastest in her shift. I’ve had to talk to her a few times about… Army regulations. She seems to think that the rules don’t apply to her. For instance – lights out. Or – uniform.”

“Hmm” Ann Walker nodded thoughtfully. “Well – next time, send her to me. I’m under the impression she could be quite a leader, and the last thing we want is insubordination. I mean – I don’t care whether the crease in her trousers is straight or not, but…The devil’s in the details and all that, you know. Maybe in a few months we can send her for further training. In the meanwhile – I’ll deal with her next time.”

“All right – well – better get back to it. Thanks for the tea – and the biscuits.”

The biscuits had been sent to Ann by her aunt’s cook and even a bit stale, they were a vast improvement on what they could find at the NAAFI. Left to herself, Ann let her thoughts drift to the enfant terrible. She chewed on her lower lips as she admitted to herself she had noticed AW Lister from the very first kit parade. The tall, dark-haired woman managed to have a devil-may-care attitude even when she stood at attention. Ann Walker had also noticed AW Lister looking at her as if the woman was undressing her with her eyes. And all this made her very unsure of herself, the reason why she had snapped at Lister in Preston the month before. Since then, she had not had any occasion to see the woman other than in the mess hall or in the plotting room, although her intuition told her that what she had just said to her colleague might just bring about another close encounter between them.

Jan 16th, 1942

The girls in my hut have become curious about my writing. Inevitable, I suppose, considering one has next to no privacy & although we work in shifts, I have scarcely had the room to myself since my arrival here. Since I do not want anyone to know of my diary I have had to resort to subterfuge. My crypthand is not enough. Therefore, I have told the girls – in utter confidence, of course – that I was writing a novel with the hope of getting it published. Even gone as far as to tell them about the plot – my heroine is a young nurse who has fallen in love with a handsome pilot…Since I have strictly no interest in such rubbish but must keep up the pretence, I am drawing my inspiration from one of Marian’s Mills & Boons I happened to leaf through last year. Pains me greatly to have to spend paper & time on such drivel, but needs must. I use the back of my notebook for “Nurse Joy & her airman” & the front for my own thoughts.

Work still going fairly well – we have managed to avoid a raid on Liverpool docks thanks to “Aspirin”. Suppose it makes one feel one participate to the war effort. I sometimes regret I am not a driver – seems more exciting than being stuck in a stuffy, airless room. Or a pilot – if I had had the opportunity to learn to fly before the war, I would have joined the ATA. I met a girl last night in the NAAFI – she told me she had flown a Spitfire & a Lancaster yesterday from base to base – seems the Spitfires are easier to fly. Managed to keep myself out of trouble for nearly a week now. Let’s hope it continues.

Jan 22th

Spoke too soon. Yesterday, Frank & I managed to get a night pass yesterday to go to Blackpool, where Solomon was playing Grieg’s concerto. A few airmen were going too & they offered us a seat in their lorry, which we accepted gratefully. The concert was lovely & he was much applauded. After the concert, Frank decided to go back to the base with the airmen, as she wanted to spend the rest of her evening with Threfall, who was going off shift at 9. I was in no hurry to go back & decided to enjoy myself as much as I could. I knew there was a bus leaving at 10.35 which would get me to Preston in time for me to walk back to the base & make curfew. Spotted a pub not far from the town hall & decided to have a drink or two. Had not touched alcohol since the beginning of my training & although I was not a big drinker, I did enjoy it from time to time. Had not spent any of my pay either, so I had enough in my pocket to afford it. The Cow and the Three Sailors was far from crowded & the comely landlady seemed happy enough to serve me. I made myself very agreeable to her & flirted a little.

Mrs Barlow told me her husband had died serving in 1940 & that she now had no other solution but to keep the pub open, as she needed the money for herself & her daughter. She must have found me to her liking, for despite the posters “Only one strong drink allowed”, she served me a second whisky on the house. In retrospect, I probably should have refused, but by that time, since the pub was deserted, I had managed to have my hand on hers & to steal a quick kiss. I paid no attention to the clock & when she finally told me she was closing & I was welcome to spend the night, I realised I had missed the last bus. In for a penny, in for a pound. Accepted her offer. _3 or 4 good kisses – she did not seem to mind I was a woman & was very affectionate. _

My plan had been to sneak in the hut unnoticed the next morning, having walked back. Unfortunately, was not sneaky enough and came face-to-face with Flight Sergeant Parkhill, on her way back from the ablution block. Tried to pretend I had been out for an early walk but she did not believe me & an hour later, I found myself in WO Walker’s office. I stood at attention before her desk for more than 5 minutes before she told me “at ease”. Then she asked if I anything to say for myself. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I tried the same excuse “I was just taking a morning walk, Ma’am – I don’t know why Flight Sergeant Parkhill thought otherwise.”

“Maybe because you did not sign in last night? Or maybe because you look like something the cat’s dragged in and your clothes reek of alcohol? Do you really think I’m a fool, Aircraftwoman Lister?”

While she berated me & although I pretended to be riveted by the royal arms on her sleeve, I could not help admiring how her blouse & her jacket admirably hugged her bosom & thinking how I would not mind putting my hands underneath. She never wore trousers & although I could not see them under the desk, I could imagine her legs & her derriere perfectly encased in her uniform skirt. I must have drifted off because I realised she had stopped talking & must have asked me a question.

“I said – have you got any excuses, Lister?”

I hung my head, figuring I had run out of excuses. “No, Ma’am.”

“Very well – for going AWOL, six days’ Confined to Camp.”

I could not help myself: “SIX days??” I knew other girls who had been punished for the same misdemeanour & got away with 3 days’ CC.

“Eight days now, Lister – don’t try me. You can start by the kitchen. They’ve got potatoes to peel for lunch. That will be all.”

Knowing that that was what was expected, I managed a “Thank you Ma’am” through gritted teeth & a salute before I left the room to report to the kitchen, with a stop in the hut to repair my dishevelled appearance, which was sure to get me more reprimands during the days. Actually, although I could not say I was glad I was going to spend the next days doing jankers, I did not mind so much not going to the plotting room after a near-sleepless night. When I told the girls about my punishment, they agreed that WO Walker really had it in for me. _Last night, incurred a cross thinking of WO Walker._


	4. Chapter 4

Jan 26th

Halfway through jankers. Cannot wait for it to be over – I have done everything from kitchen duty to cleaning the ablution block, plus kit parade – in full kit – every day. Despite that, discovered today on the notice board that I had been promoted to Leading Aircraftwoman for my work – 1 more shilling every week. Caught WO Walker watching me several times – is she waiting for me to mess up again?

Last night in the hut the girls were talking about their boyfriends. Mary Vallance said she did not have one – she is quite young, barely 19. Very pretty, too. Sibella McLean is engaged – I wish I had known that before, for I have tried for several days now to make myself agreeable to her. Not that one can have much privacy around here, but I managed a few well-turned compliments & she seemed to like me. Apparently she is engaged to marry a Captain Cameron of Lochiel, who is currently serving in France. They asked me if I had anyone “special” in the Forces. I said I had no intention of ever getting married. When they persisted, I said there had been someone, but that person had left me to marry someone else. I was careful not to give any indication of their sex, for I am sure some of them would be disgusted by what M- & I had. They already think me odd & I don’t care for them to think me even queerer. Tonight, they are all going to a dance at the American base in Heywood & I’m CC…

Had an interesting discussion with Flight Lieutenant Cuvier tonight in the mess hall. He works in the Operations room. Turns out he is a classics lecturer at Christ Church, Oxford. Enjoyed discussing Marcus Aurelius & Herodotus with him.

Jan 30th

Last day of jankers. When I reported to WO Walker tonight for kit inspection, she asked me if “I intended to behave in a way befitting a WAAF now”. I had to bit my tongue to reply a very proper “Yes, Ma’am”. Then, before I closed the door behind me, I intentionally let my eyes linger on her bosom…

Feb 6th

Breakfast – nearly inedible this morning. My bowels sluggish again & the loos are so cold I seem never to be able to empty myself properly. Managed to borrow a bicycle so went for a ride before my shift – 5 miles to Longton & then back. At least I think it was Longton because of course the signposts have been removed. Then – usual shift & wrote a letter to M- Tonight we are going to a dance in the village.

Feb 9th 

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote in this journal. First – the dance. Since there are so many more women than men, no one comments on two girls dancing together. Had quite a good time. Pressed Mary Vallance against me during 2 slow songs & she did not complain. Also danced with Sibella Mc Lean, although I have now transferred much of my attention elsewhere since she is engaged to another. Life is complicated enough without having to fight other beaus. Kissed Mary in a quiet corner on the way back to base. She parted her lips & let me slip my tongue. A good kiss.

Then – yesterday, I was coming off shift at 2100 when we all heard the sound of a plane in trouble. Looked up & saw a Spitfire with one wing burning. The plane put-putted & began to fall in the field near the station. Ran towards it, despite people ordering me to keep away & stand back – that’s the last thing I remember. I woke up in the infirmary. The nurse told me I had managed to drag the pilot out of the plane before it exploded & then threw myself on him to protect him from the blast. I have no memories at all of that but I have sustained significant burns on my legs & arms & she told me I had a concussion. They have given me morphine for the pain, which always makes me light-headed & nauseous. Therefore, when I woke up for the second time & saw WO Walker sitting near my bed, I thought I was still dreaming. I did not let on I was awake & observed her covertly. She had dark circles under her eyes & looked as if she had not slept for days. Her blonde hair was rolled as per regulation but a loose strand had escaped from her severe bun & it brushed against her nose. Her uniform looked more rumpled than usual & it suddenly dawned on me that she had probably spent the night in that chair. Now – that was unexpected. I noticed a tear run down her cheek & this moved me so much I decided to show I was awake by fluttering my eyelids & turning in the bed. Immediately she straightened up in the chair & reaching for her handkerchief, she blew her nose.

“I caught a cold” were the first words she said. I didn’t answer. She may have caught a cold, but I was pretty sure she had been crying. “You bloody, bloody, stupid idiot, Lister! Why on earth did you do that?” Now that surprised me as much as the tears, as WO Walker was as prim as a nun usually & if she was mad at you, she told you so in the most refined terms. “You shall probably get a medal for that”, she went on. “But I would be grateful if you could avoid getting killed while on my watch.” And with that she burst into tears again & groped wildly for her handkerchief. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows – I was usually helpless before a crying woman, but since I couldn’t flee, I wanted to comfort her – but my whole body protested at the idea & I had to fall back on my pillow. Probably better, as if I had taken her in my arms, I may have found myself doing jankers til kingdom come. She abruptly stood up & strode out of the room, leaving me dumbfounded. Am writing this in the infirmary, as since I have to stay here for one more day I asked the nurse to ask Mary Vallance to bring me my notebook. Flirted a little with her – Nurse Ellen Alexander – using my wounded warrior status. She was soon putty in my hands & when she came with my dinner tray, I asked her if she could help me eat the soup since my hand still felt a little unsteady. She complied willingly & I caught her wrist in my hand & kissed it. She giggled but did not seem shocked so I grubbled her a little over her uniform until she said she had to go. _Incurred a cross thinking of WO Walker._

Feb 11th

Got out of the infirmary today & was told to report to WO Walker. Still feeling a bit shaky & nauseous as I am still taking morphine but am more than ready to go back to work. The tulle gras on the burns has done its job & they are beginning to heal. Nurse Alexander had brought me a new uniform, for mine apparently was no longer wearable, so I feel reasonably clean & fresh. My mind has been churning with what I want to say to WO Walker. The words come much more easily in my dreams. I don’t care about what I did – I only did my duty & if I get a medal…Well, I won’t reject it, obviously, but I never thought about that.

This time, WO Walker did not make me stand at attention for more than maybe thirty seconds. Then she offered me a seat & my legs almost failed me! I sat down and very properly waited for her to speak first.

“I hope you’re quite recovered, Aircraftwoman Lister?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am – it wasn’t – just a few scratches, really.”

“You know, you are quite infuriating, Lister.”

“Me, Ma’am?”

“Yes – you. You’re probably the most insubordinate woman I’ve ever met. But this time, I am quite glad you disobeyed orders, for you saved Squadron Leader Booth’s life.”

I didn’t think I needed to reply to that, so I stayed silent.

“Aircraftwoman Lister?”

“Ma’am?”

“Never ever do that again, or I will kill you myself.”

I couldn’t find my words. It was probably the result of the concussion. There is no possible explanation for what I did then. There was no way I would have stood up, gone to her, taken her in my arms & kissed her, first on her brow & then, since she had not protested, on her lips, which parted for mine, maybe in shock, maybe in lust. I held her for a minute or two before she pushed back & directed stormy grey eyes at me.

“That … That… How dare you …How could you…”

Yet her tone was bewildered rather than angry & it gave me a smidgen of hope. It also gave me my tongue back. “I dared because I like you and I think you like me too. I may even…” I blushed… “More than like you.” Because why otherwise would I fantasize over her, night after night…

“I… I…”

Now she was the one lost for words & I seized the opportunity to kiss her again & to slip my tongue against hers. I met no protestation & although I knew this was madness, knew anyone could come in at any moment…There was no one else but her in my mind – no war, no uniform, no rank – she was a woman – the woman I wanted – & I truly believed she wanted me too. Her body told me so. Indeed, when my lips left hers, she was the one who sought mine again, avidly, almost desperately. And then she pushed me away, whispering – almost whimpering “Go – you have to go – we can’t”. Only then did I let go of her waist & left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Feb 18th 

The amnesty did not last long. As I was walking in the courtyard, I meat WO Walker coming from the opposite direction. I saluted very properly but she called me over. “Hair on your collar, Lister – I’m putting you on a charge – report for cleaning duties.” Dejected, I murmured “Yes, Ma’am” & did as ordered. The woman is infuriating. Does that mean she likes me a little? I believe it does, but how can I prove it? I can’t very well kiss her in public…

The jankers gave me an idea. I was assigned to cleaning the officers’ quarters. The male & female officers had rooms in the main building, lucky them. Much more comfortable than the hut, although not much better heated. Anyway – I asked another AW assigned to the same duties if she knew which was WO Walker’s room. I told her I wanted to make sure I cleaned it extra-well, since WO Walker would probably take me to task otherwise. She did & she also told me she had no roommates for the moment. This suited my plans perfectly.

\-----------------------------------------

As she went back to her room that night, Ann Walker’s thoughts went once more to what had happened in her office the week before – her moment of insanity. Because surely someone else had kissed Lister – someone else had felt desire for another woman rising in her bosom. Someone else had moaned under the touch of the brunette. She hadn’t anyone she could confide in. Certainly not her sister or anyone in her family, and not her fellow officers. This was… So shameful, so unnatural, so…uncommonly pleasurable. It could not happen again. She wondered if she could send the LAW away – to a training course somewhere. She probably could, but she would be depriving the plotters’ room of one of its best elements. Plus…How would she survive if she didn’t seen the woman every day? This was a terrible, no-win situation. She took off her shoes and uniform jacket and wearily plopped down on her bed, not even bothering to undress properly, and heard a noise of crumpled paper. Intrigued, she sat up and felt under her blankets – nothing. She then lifted her pillow and found a folded note:

My heart is a casualty of war

Burnt and scratched by a chance encounter

Need someone to darn it for me

Piercing grey eyes have stabbed it

Only fair hands can bandage it

My mind scorched with desire

Needs orders to soothe it better

Who can help me?

Only a special somebody

Ann Walker gasped and immediately folded the paper back. Then she unfolded it again, and read the poem again. It was not signed, but she knew very well who it was from. She ought to destroy it – burn it. But she hid it in her closet instead. Sleep eluded her that night. Instead, she let herself think of afterwards. What would become of her after the war, if she stayed alive that long? After all, they were all at the mercy of a stray V2… She couldn’t imagine going back to Lidgate, with her overprotective family hovering over her. Not now that she had had a taste of independence. Maybe she could travel – but not alone. For all the self-confidence she had gained during her training, it wasn’t nearly enough. She very often found herself faltering and hiding her fears under undue authority. Nor did the idea of getting married really appealed to her. Now that her fiancé was dead… No, there wouldn’t be anyone else. From the stories she heard in the mess, she somehow imagined lovemaking with a man as… slightly unsavoury. Maybe she could find another woman to live with. A companion. They could pool their resources and live together – she imagined herself painting in the drawing room, someone reading on the sofa… It would be nice to have someone to talk to.

People say that when you sleep on something, your head is clearer in the morning. Well, people are wrong. Or maybe it doesn’t apply when you don’t actually sleep. Because when she got up, Ann Walker had no more idea what to do about the poem and its author than when she read it first. Should she summon LAW Lister to her office and tell her in no uncertain terms to stop her nonsense? The brunette would probably deny everything…Ought she to say nothing? But surely the woman would take it as an encouragement… She dressed and went to breakfast, still undecided.

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Feb 18th

She still has not reacted to my poem. Did she like it? My head aches this morning & I feel slightly nauseous. Probably my cousin coming – no chance of a day off, though, we are busier than ever. The food has been getting steadily worse – we are all fed up with turnips & mystery stew. Even the tea has a strange taste.

No sign of WO Walker today – odd. Usually the woman is everywhere.

Feb 20th

Still no sign of WO Walker. FL Parkhill has taken up all her duties. Will have to ask – after all, everyone is curious, not just me. Vallance tried to cosy up to me but was not in the mood. Pity – she’s a nice little thing – a bit forward, though & that does not appeal to me.

So…WO Parker is in the infirmary – bad case of tonsillitis – fever quite high apparently. Should I visit her? Would people notice?

Snuck out after lights out – hopefully no one will miss me. Have got used to finding my way in the dark, so had no trouble finding the infirmary. She looked so tired & so pale – like a china doll. Her hair were spread all over the pillow in an untidy sprawl – she would hate that. She must have been having a nightmare, for she was moving around & whimpering. Sweat was running down her brow & soon I could not bear to see her fighting an invisible enemy in slumber – I gently took her hand & laid my other hand on her forehead “Shh – it’s all right. You’re safe.”

She finally opened her eyes & I saw they were bright with fever & unseen fears. At first I thought she did not know me, but she did.

“Anne – you shouldn’t be here! You have to go. They’ll catch us…They’ll… Go, Anne!”

I did not listen immediately. I could not. I kissed her hand & tried to soothe her. Finally, I resorted to an old trick I had sometimes used with my aunt. When she was sick, she liked to hear me sing. So I did – sotto voce. Of course, the night nurse came in – she saw me & did not say anything – it could have gone either way – instead she winked & went away. I sang “Jerusalem” – don’t know why, the first thing that came to mind, really. At the end of the song, WO Walker was sleeping peacefully again. I waited a little while & snuck out again. Will have to give some of my cigarettes ration to the nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all my apologies - I'm no poet !


	6. Chapter 6

Feb 22nd

WO Walker took drill parade this morning. She looked emaciated & very pale, her uniform belt tighter than usual. She did not talk to me – how could she? I did not talk to her – how could I? And yet – I have so much to say – so much to hope. How can I be so foolish? Have I not been hurt enough by M- ? I very much doubt WO Walker knows what is going on. I heard she had been engaged & her fiancé died. Incurred a cross last night, thinking of WO Walker.

Feb 26th

An eventful day – a Messerschmidt chose us for a target instead of its original target. I was on duty in the operations room, with Frank & four other girls. Despite the walls shaking, the ceiling falling to bits on us – slight exaggeration, but parts of it did fall on the tables & the awful whining noise & the crashes, we went on with the job. Green counters, blue counters, reach, place, reach, place…There is no room for nerves in the ops room & those who say women cannot be trusted under pressure are liars. We performed more than adequately. Itched to get out & see the damage but of course stayed at my post. Have trouble sleeping & my complaint not much better. Will have to go back to the chemist.

Feb 28th

At parade this morning, WO Walker told me to report to her office. Checked that my uniform was clean & my shoes polished & my hair properly up before I did. I did not know what to expect. Had I fallen foul of the regulations again? I knocked & saluted, trying to decipher the look on her face.

“Sit down, Lister.”

“You called me Anne last time…”

I could not help it – it just got out before I had time to think. It would not be the first time my tongue got me into trouble. I chewed on my lower lip & risked a glance at WO Walker. She was bright red & staring at her desk.

And I dug myself deeper, because I never knew where to stop… “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have said that. You can call me whatever you want. Although – I’d love to know your Christian name as well.”

She took a deep breath & looked at me straight in the eyes: “I would appreciate it if you forgot all about that…”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I sensed that she didn’t mean it, though, and could not help adding: “I can’t forget it, you know – I shall never forget it – not in a million years.”

She blushed again & I reached out over the desk & put my hand over hers. She shivered but did not protest & murmured something inaudible.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ann…”

“Yes ?”

“I mean, Ann – my Christian name is Ann.”

“Oh…” Surely this was a sign – we were meant to be together.

“Please never use my name in public.”

“Of course…”

She took back her hands to shuffle through her papers & I immediately felt a sense of loss.

“You’re now a corporal, Lister – that came after the plane incident.”

Did I care? At that moment I cared more about holding her hand – about… I stood up & came to kneel beside her, laying my head on her lap. She did not stop me. I lifted my head & looked at her: “May I kiss you, Ann?”

She did not answer but bent down & kissed the top of my head – for the first time, I really understood the expression “from head to toes” – my whole body shivered in response. I gently drew her face to mine & kissed her too, on the lips. Her lips parted for my tongue & I tasted her. It was not wise – it was more than imprudent – we could be caught… I had to let her go but I wanted more. Reluctantly I stood up & made for the door. Instead of saluting, I winked & asked: “Can I buy you a drink to celebrate my promotion, Warrant Officer Walker?”

She frowned & I wondered if I had been too bold. But then she smiled – briefly, but it was definitely a smile. “I shall be in the mess tonight, Corporal… Dismissed!”


	7. Epilogue

July 24th, 1950

We shared a drink on the 28th of February, 1943. We made love for the first time in a dingy hotel during the first leave we managed to get together. The room was filthy, the sheet not too clean, the narrow bed creaked – we nestled against each other & I grubbled her. She let me take her pyjamas off – those ghastly WAAF-issued pyjamas & I caressed her all over. She shuddered & moaned & when I entered her, my fingers found her moisture. We went to Italy together that night.

We survived the war. Our love survived her doubts, survived my being sent to officer’s training & then to another base for the rest of the war. I missed her – she missed me. We wrote – fearing censorship, we moderated our words, our hopes & our feelings. I still have her letters & she mine. She often says jokingly I corrupted her – I always answer she was glad to be corrupted. I had to help her overcome her reluctance, of course – she had no idea that there could be more between women than friendship – she was so innocent. And then…Then she thought it was wrong, until – until she did not, and believed our relationship would be as good as a marriage. When I took her to the Gateways club last year – well – that was such an eye-opening for her. She did say she was glad I was not as masculine as some of the ladies there, but she loves my waistcoats & has never tried to convince me to stop wearing trousers…

She is in the garden right now, pruning the roses. My Adney – my wife. In 1947, we exchanged vows & rings. Cannot get enough of watching her – she is still as beautiful as when I first met her. Thankfully, Shibden Hall has suffered no damage during the war, although Lidgate has been hit twice & Ann, now its owner, decided she would not re-build it. We had already decided to live with each other. I teach sciences at a girls’ school in York & she keeps house for me. She has other responsibilities too – she belongs to the WI, and several committees. Next month, we are going back to Paris, where we spent our honeymoon. My steward, Washington, died there – not in Paris, but in France, during the last days of the war. I have taken responsibility for his daughters – sort of adopted them. My dear Aunt Anne & my father also died, not long after the armistice was signed. I still miss her desperately at time, but I am confident she would be happy for me – for us, since I had so often lamented my lack of companion.

No one really knows about “our” war – we both signed the official secret act. My George Medal lies almost forgotten in a drawer in the new library I had built. Sometimes, we meet up with the girls…Sibella McLean never saw D-Day – she died from a V1 hit, on leave in London. She had been married to Captain Cameron for four months. But I still see Frank from time to time – we phone each other. And the others… We’ve gone to a few old girls’ reunions – the only time Squadron Officer Lister & Flight Officer Walker re-appear, really – we drink & we talk about those years. For the others, we are good friends, living together for money & companionship. Maybe some have guessed – Frank has. Around here… Some don’t talk to us anymore, but many don’t care.

We would probably never have met without the war. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”


End file.
